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Army of God

By Dennis Bailey

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Noah had managed to live 499 years without giving much thought
to his own mortality. But as he searched the faces of the crowd just
ahead, he calculated his chances of being stoned to death by day’s end were pretty good.
Raucous voices dropped to a whisper when he entered the city gate. Two hundred of his countrymen gathered at midday to meet
the trade caravans returning from the east.
“With what words do you seek to reproach us today, Preacher?”
came a loud voice from the far end of the crowd that silenced the
murmurs.
All eyes turned to Malluch, a person of medium height clothed in a dark gray robe, a man Noah knew intimately. Twenty years earlier, he’d lost his father and brother at the Garden of Eden. Since then, he’d become the leader of a group of men intent on deposing
the city’s governorship. He was flanked by his two lieutenants, Shechem and Bohar.
Clean-shaven, with lightly salted acorn hair, Shechem stood a bit
taller than Malluch. He presented a stark contrast to the slovenly
appearance of Bohar standing next to him, whose outer garment
was so filthy it masked its true color. His oily hair and scraggly
beard added to the look of a man indifferent to the importance of
personal hygiene.
Most kept their distance from Bohar and deliberately
maneuvered to stake positions upwind of him. Others simply
wrinkled their noses or twisted their faces.
Noah moved toward the trio, and the crowd gave way. Behind
them, twenty-four donkey- and camel-drawn carts loaded with
goods from Enoch filled one corner of the square. Men from
the crowd hurried to help forty young women dressed in silk
disembark the last four carts.
As Noah approached, the foul stench of a body that hadn’t been
washed in countless days assaulted his senses. Malluch anchored
his hands on his hips. “Well, Preach—” but Noah brushed past
him to the carts and a woman wearing a gold scarf.
She lowered her head, but he lifted her chin to meet his gaze.
“Daughter, why do you journey so far?”
“My Lord, there are many women in Enoch and not so many
men. They said we might find husbands in Eden.”
Despite her attire, up close she appeared much younger than
he first suspected, perhaps fourteen. Her green irises sparkled
like emeralds through which starlight had passed. Not wishing
to embarrass her, and with all the concern of a father, he reached
to lift her scarf. “And why do you cover such beauty with jewels
and silken robes? Do all the women of Enoch hide themselves in
this way?”
In the manner of a child awaiting an expected gift, the woman’s
face beamed. “We were told the men of Eden have a great
appreciation for women with finely braided hair and luxurious
dress. Is this not so?”
The truth lodged in his throat, one befallen by hundreds before
her. The girl had not been brought here to find a husband, but to
become the paid object of men’s lusts. And to put money into the
pockets of her procurers. Shame for his countrymen besieged him,
surpassed only by grief at the prospect of the girl’s lost innocence.
“Perhaps for some.” He dropped her scarf, smiled, and returned
to where Malluch and his men held court.
Facing the assembly, Noah assumed a position that allowed him
to keep an eye on the challenger and his men. “Sons of Seth, take
heed to the words of my mouth. For I do not come to you today
with a reproach but with a prophecy. Beware the descendants of
Cain.” This drew murmurs from some in the crowd. “Have we
not lived in this land of our fathers for more than 1500 years in
peace and prosperity according to the richness of the blessings of
YAH? Has not this soil brought forth sufficient food to nourish?
Or has there been even a single year when your flocks and herds
have not seen increase? Why then is it the desire of your heart
to travel to Enoch where the descendants of Cain continue his
murderous legacy?”
Others in the gathering hunched over or turned away.
“Is it that you seek to forsake the birthright secured for you
by your ancestors and exchange it for one under a curse?” He
gestured to the carts. “Have you not been warned numerous times
of the dangers of dealing with the Enochites? Yet you barter and
trade with them. You give your daughters as wives and accept
their sons as husbands, so that the righteous seed is mixed with
the unrighteous.”
Malluch laughed. “You cling too tightly to the traditions of the
fathers, Preacher. Are we to remain farmers while the rest of the
world prospers? Many cities trade with Enoch. Are we not destined
to till the same ground as those descendants of Cain you speak of?
Why should we not reap the same rewards?”
Several men in the crowd cried out their agreement.
Noah raised a finger toward him. “You would do well to heed
those traditions, Malluch.”
“Why? Our fathers toiled in the sun all their lives and had
nothing to show for it except broken backs and gnarled hands.”
He walked to one of the carts and reached in. “But in Enoch, there
are incomparable riches and wonders to delight the senses.” He
raised his arm holding a large wineskin. “Acres of vineyards to
produce the world’s finest wines.”
This drew cheers from some of the crowd. He placed the
wineskin back in the cart and moved to another, pulling out a
bronze sword. “Artisans, who beat and temper hot iron and bronze
into the finest tools and weapons.”
He returned the sword and continued his litany. “Musicians,
who play the harp and the flute to the dancing of the world’s most
beautiful women.”
More cheers and clapping erupted.
Noah approached him and took from the cart the sword
brandished by his rival. He scanned the weapon. “Malluch, you
boast of the prowess of the metal artisans of Enoch, and indeed,
you boast rightly, for their skill in fashioning with the hammer is
without equal. And it cannot be denied their weapons are of the
highest caliber. But for what purpose are they crafted? So the men
of Enoch can arm themselves for an attack on their neighbors? Was
it not the Enochites who carried out a raid just last year on one of
the northern villages?”
“I heard that was no raid, but retribution for a wrong committed
by one of the villagers against a Lord of Enoch,” Shechem said.
Noah slammed the sword back into the cart. “And what wrong
committed by one man against another could justify the destruction
of an entire village?”
By now, some in the crowd fidgeted as if being bitten by fleas.
Others gathered their supplies and left the square. Bohar signaled
to his cohorts, who furtively reached to the ground for stones. He
backed into the crowd and circled outside of Noah’s view.
“Were you there?’ Malluch said. “Did you see what happened?”
Noah moved forward but remained silent.
“These seven generations, you and our fathers have taught us
to fear a God who hasn’t revealed Himself since the time of Adam.
If the Enochites felt the need to defend themselves, who are we
to judge?”
“You do not have to be a judge to recognize the injustice of
punishing many for the sins of one.” He motioned toward the
caravans. “And what about these women? Do they know why they
were brought here?”
“To find husbands.”
“Whose husbands? Do you mean the husbands of Eden who
frequent the tents encamped just outside the city?”
Malluch glared, and Noah caught sight of Bohar attempting to
flank him between two of the carts. Inching closer, the man whose
reputation with a knife was well known, appeared to conceal
something beneath his tunic.
Japheth, one of Noah’s sons, stopped Bohar’s advance by
grabbing him from behind and immobilizing the hidden forearm
with a strong squeezing grip. The would-be assailant twisted to
see the huge man wearing a brown chagowr and sling towering
over him by nearly half a cubit, but otherwise couldn’t move.
Noah exhaled in relief and threw an approving nod to the son
whose power and strength he’d come to depend on but never took
for granted.
At the same time, Noah’s younger son, Shem, passed through
the crowd and stood beside his father. “It’s time to leave,”
he whispered.
“Would you have me leave before my message is complete? Can
truth be deferred until tomorrow?”
Shem examined Noah through deep-set cocoa eyes fixed above
a softly-chiseled, tanned face. “Father, we need to go … Now.”
He furrowed his brow. “Son, why do you show such disrespect
for me in public?”
“Father, please. Look in their hands.”
Roughly one hundred-twenty men remained in the city gate
following the others’ departure. Most, including Malluch, had
withdrawn from the center of the square leaving Noah and his
son alone.
Bohar’s allies appeared to look to him for a signal, but he
remained locked in Japheth’s grasp. He walked him to join his
father and Shem. Together the four exited the square and moved
along a side street lined with flat-roofed houses of stone and
mortar. Once out of sight of the crowd, they stopped, and Japheth
pulled Bohar’s hand—and the span-length knife it held—from
beneath his tunic.
He sneered, exposing a mouthful of green-encrusted teeth. “You
know, one day I’m going to be the one coming up behind you.”
“Maybe.” Japheth said. “If you tread lightly enough and the
wind is right?” He squeezed his wrist until the knife dropped,
then retrieved it and slowly turned it over in his palm. Dried blood
stained both sides of the blade.
Bohar’s eyelids froze and he slowly backed away toward the
city gate, as though fearful Japheth might use the knife on him.
Noah thanked his son for the timely intervention but mourned
his inability to reach his countrymen. Many in the crowd had been
loyal to his father, Lamech, until deceived by the riches of Enoch.
It was probably his final opportunity to reach those whose hearts
were being led away from God. He feared the beginning of the end
of a culture dating back to the creation.
“Did you see how red Malluch’s face got back there?” Shem
said. “Father, I’m afraid this will only make him more determined
to have you killed.”
“It seems twenty years has done nothing to temper his desire
for revenge.” News of the slaughter at the garden had traveled
through Eden like the wind. Malluch made no attempt to conceal
his feelings, vowing on his father’s and brother’s graves to repay
Lamech and his son for their betrayal. Soon thereafter, he traveled
to the land of Nod, allegedly to lay blame against them for the
death of the sons of Enoch. For his part, Noah took no satisfaction
in having been proven right. He and his family mourned the loss
of life but, of course, could do nothing else to lessen his foe’s
suffering. He’d been warned.
“So, what do we do?”
“Well, the fact he tried to have Bohar’s men stone me in the open
means he’s afraid to get his own hands bloody. And that could
work to our advantage.” At the top of the street, thirty to forty
supporters gathered round an animated Bohar, who kept pointing
to the four men. “But for now, we should get off the street.”
As the four men moved between the houses, rocks fell around
them, one glancing off Shem’s left leg. The large group of men
charged toward them. Shem and Japheth drew their swords, but
their father touched them both on the shoulder. “Wait.”
He reached for a palm-size rock, one hurled by their attackers.
He threw it, striking Bohar in the center of his forehead and
knocking him backwards off his feet. When the others saw their
companion felled, they stopped and surrounded his unmoving
body.
“Now we can walk home,” he said.

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